One Night
by power ballad contest
Summary: Love bites, love bleeds, love lives, regardless it may not always be enough. For such a simple four letter word, its definition can oftentimes be anything but; simple.


**The 80's Power Ballad Contest: Twilight Edition**

**Name of song and artist chosen: Love Bites by Def Leppard**

**Title: One Night**

**Word Count: 5,744**

**Rating: M**

**Pairing: E/B**

**Summary: Love bites, love bleeds, love lives, regardless it may not always be enough. For such a simple four letter word, its definition can oftentimes be anything but; simple. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**One Night**

_**When you make love, do you look your **__**mirror? Who do you think of, does he look like me?  
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"Hey E, I need two lemon drops and a Jack and Coke." Her mere presence demands my attention.

"How ya doing tonight…Bella?" I inquire, pausing to savor the sound of her name as it escapes my lips. I fill her order; my task at hand rote and uninteresting when she is around.

"Ah, you know same ole same ole. How about you, Sexy?" She winks, and I feel the slice it sends through me like the slashing of skin. Allowing my blood to spill; she is careless with her words and free with her flirtations. My body responds instinctively without permission; granting her a smile.

"Hey, Baby." The charismatic gentleman with kempt blond hair and overly confident smile snakes an arm around her, surprising her from behind. I place the order on her tray as she smiles and spins around to greet him.

"Hey you…" Her words trail off into his neck, and the thick silk of her bourbon hair curtains their brief exchange. His hands are on her waist, and my jaw tenses at the touches they share.

"Hey E-man, I need another Corona." Emmett's voice momentarily yanks me from my secret infatuation.

I pull a cold one out of the chest in front of me, pop it open and place it on the bar. "Here ya go, man."

"Thanks, Bro." With a nod of my head, I place the five in the till with a resounding ding and turn my attentions back towards _her_, and the end of the bar that holds my focus.

I notice as soon as they break the coveted encounter; I long for. He takes a seat at the bar, and she resumes her paid profession. Offering him a drink, he accepts; Bombay Sapphire chilled, like his eyes, with a twist. I know his drink, but not because I want to; more out of occurrence. She works the room with her usual allure and magic, conjuring the charms of many in her path; taking orders and steeling hearts. We both watch her. Every round she makes and every order she places. We don't speak; he and I. But we both watch.

I feign interest in the plethora of party girls at my disposal as I work the bar. Although it seems to get him off my scent, he silently stakes his claim at every encounter. The cocky swirl of his libation, his lips on the glass, hands on her skin, every glance they exchange. I know he knows enough to hedge his bets. He's wise to do so. She's not the type to keep them around. He hasn't been around long but longer than typical.

_**Do you tell lies and say that it's forever?**__**Do you think twice, or just touch 'n' see? **_

"Hey Sexy, how about a Suck, Bang & Blow?" My eyes penetrate hers with a raised brow and a smirk as I get to work running the recipe in my head…_1 oz. Jacquin's orange flavored gin, 1 oz. Rumple Minze peppermint liqueur, 2 oz. Goldschlager cinnamon schnapps, 1 oz. Jagermeister herbal liqueur, 3 oz. Jose Cuervo Especial gold tequila,1 oz. Hpnotiq liqueur,1 oz. Smirnoff vodka,1 oz. Absolut Citron vodka,1 oz. Aristocrat triple sec,1 peeled whole lime, 5 oz. strawberry daiquiri mix, 2 cups cranberry juice,1 cup sugar. _

I hold hundreds of recipes inside my head along with every expression she is capable of wielding.

"What else can I give you?" I offer without missing a beat, as my ministrations are appreciated by the crowd surrounding the bar. _He_ is also watching us.

"Oh Baby, you know exactly how I like it. Between the Sheets and a Screaming Orgasm." Although this is what we do, our game, I prepare the order with a sense of satisfaction. _He_ is clearly uncomfortable.

"I aim to please…" I lean in towards her as I place the last request on her empty tray, and whisper, "Your _boyfriend_ seems to wonder exactly what we are…engaging in." She isn't immune to my presence; I clearly have an effect on her. I only wish it was more than what it is.

"You're doing it again, the dazzling," she whispers back. "Thanks, Sexy." She turns to deliver her veritable innuendoes in a glass, and I shake my head.

_His_ deciphering eyes cross mine. I hold the power momentarily, knowing she won't submit. I almost…feel bad for the guy. _He_ seems different, older more refined, and wiser. Clearly that's not the case. Nor could it be, I suppose, when dealing with her enchanting web.

_**When you're alone, do you let go? Are you wild 'n' willin' or is it just for show?**_

Much of the night wears on in the same fashion as the bar becomes crammed with many seeking the same guilty pleasures.

"E-man! 'Sup, Bro?" This is Emmett's latest trip to the bar; a different girl in tow. Emmett is in here every weekend, typical twenty-something just out of college and getting his first taste of the real world. He's a decent guy. I was like him once. Aren't we all? But that was years ago.

"Em, what can I get you? Ready for a taxi yet, my friend?"

"Naw, man. It's not even last call yet." He turns his attentions to the blonde at his side. "So how about a Slow Comfortable Screw, Baby?" It is obvious she is the epitome of a dumb blonde as she simpers and giggles.

I watch completely disinterested, awaiting an answer. An antipathy for my surroundings becoming stronger as the night wears on. Granted, Bella and I dabble in the overt allusions as a game to entice the patrons and peddle our wares, but I have heard every twisted expression of liquid, sexual suggestion manipulated into a form of verbal enticement; foreplay. As the night closes in and the patrons become inebriated, the guys get more suggestive, touchy-feely and the girls get, stupid…with giggles.

"Em, dude it's gonna be last call if you don't decide soon, my man." I force them from their current suckfest, kindly being displayed before me.

"Okay, definitely a Slow Comfortable Screw for the lady, and I'll have another beer."

"Great."

There are a few more orders for last call, and Bella places her last ticket on the bar. I notice as she approaches _him _to inform him of something. Something I am not privy to. _He_ pays his tab and gives me a sideways smirk before he stands to take his leave. I nod.

One of the other employees locks up as the last patron leaves for the night. As everyone continues with side-work and cleaning, I head to the walk-in to stock the beer case. That's when I notice a couple of waitresses at the back entrance with the door propped open, smoking.

"Ladies," I peer around the corner and signal to the bouncer. "If you are all finished for the night, Felix can walk you out. Bella and I can finish up." Eager to leave for the night, the girls and Felix head out the back.

"Night E, see ya tomorrow." They all offer in unison.

"Night." I raise a single hand in gesture.

Locking the door behind them, I pull out my own paper box; tapping first, then flipping the top back to reveal the indulgence I've been anxiously craving for the last three hours. As I light up and inhale a steadying draw, Bella walks back towards the office where I stand. I release the smoke through my nose with an exhale as my fingers curl around the papered tobacco between my lips. Her eyes light up as she nears me.

"Everyone else head out already, Sexy?" she inquires casually as she slides the cigarette from between my fingers and brings it towards her own lips sensually. I watch as I imagine what it would really be like to taste her smokey seductive lips.

"Yeah, are you done up front?"

She takes another drag before placing it back between my lips. The tips of her fingers skim my mouth.

"Sure am. You need a hand back here; did you stock the cooler up front?" Her relaxed demeanor is intoxicating; it's preferable to the side she presents to everyone else. I take one last drag and press it out in a stray rocks glass that needs washing.

"We could add a few more cases of the imports. So how's school going, Bella?" We walk towards the cooler together both grabbing some boxes.

"It's good I guess." She shrugs.

"That's good. Hey, I discovered a new place downtown that holds poetry discussions on Wednesday nights. This week it's Rumi they're delving into."

"I love Rumi; his work is so sacred, mystical—"

"Yeah. You should check it out." My eyes drive my smile, as I agree wholeheartedly; with her insightful observation.

"Thanks, maybe I will."

"So let's get this beer stocked so we can get outta here." Breaking from the momentary spell she unknowingly cast, I focus on the tasks in front of us.

Another day, another night, passing time. When I'm around her, she fills me; when I'm not, she consumes me; my thoughts, my bones, my body. My heart aches to love her, but now she is with another. There is always another. I don't wish for a single night, I wish for so much more; immortal, endless time, with her.

Wednesday arrives, and I find my thoughts heavy and weighted with _her_. I haven't seen her since Saturday night at the bar. Remembering the poetry gathering, I tug a worn book from my shelf and mark two passages before heading out my door. I sling my leather satchel across my chest and slip the book in its buttery pocket. The weather is cool, and the air is fresh. I welcome the walk; clearing my head but never my heart of the desire that festers.

As I enter the quaint establishment, the scent of lemongrass and aged lumber waft through the air. Noticing the gathering crowd towards the rear of the store, I settle in and procure a seat. There is a larger turn out than usual. The reading begins, and we take turns sharing our comments and thoughts. Each participant is allowed an opportunity to contribute a selection. When she begins to speak, my eyes widen, she must have slipped in after we started. Her voice is calm and soothing as she reads the passage:

_This we have now_

_is not imagination._

_This is not _

_grief or joy._

_Not a judging state,_

_or an elation,_

_or sadness._

_Those come and go. _

_This is the presence that doesn't._

Silence creeps across the room allowing her voice to resonate amongst the ears of those gathering. As the last words leave her lips, I find myself mystified. How could she choose the most complex, yet precisely exact feeling, in written word, I connect with? This poem conveys what is in my longing. I follow her and hope she feels the weight of my words as I read the passage aloud:

_The minute I heard my first love story,_

_I started looking for you, not knowing_

_how blind that was._

_Lovers don't finally meet somewhere,_

_they're in each other all along._

As the discussion resumes, this time with the selection I've chosen, I allow the voices to fill the room and decide not to chance a look to see if she has glanced this way. If she hasn't, it will cut me. If she has, it will slice through my facade. A double edged sword, her attentions are to me; always pleading for my surrender. Many other love quenching selections are read, but none as prominent or pertinent as ours.

When the gathering finally concludes, I inhale a deep breath of the worn books and lemony essence that surround us and gather my things. Heading for the street, I have a craving again and reach for my cigarettes. I light up knowing this won't satisfy but will have to suffice. I tug my satchel across my torso once again and shove one hand deep into my pocket as my other holds my current distraction. As I walk, I continue to bring it towards my lips and remove it again. The repetition is comforting; with every inhalation and every release, the mind numbing action begins to dull the edge. Then I hear her.

"E, wait up!"

My eyes close, and I take another drag before I turn and release them both; eyes and breath.

"Bella."

"Hey,where are you headed? Why did you take off so fast?" she says, eyeing my smoke.

"Oh, um…Would you understand what I meant if I said I was only human?" I pause and inhale another puff before I finish.

"Should I?" She twists her lips and crinkles her brow.

"No, probably not. So where are you headed?" I flick the tip of my cigarette and realize it's almost extinguished. I tap it out in the store's receptacle and shove both my nervous hands into the depths of my pockets.

"I don't know…to grab a bite maybe. Are you busy?" Her face is clear and delicate; her eyes warm and inviting.

"Ah, no. You want to get a bite with me?" I hedge.

"Yeah, I thought maybe we could discuss the readings some more. The one you chose…" She doesn't finish the statement.

"Yeah?" I try to encourage her, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"I just…I liked it. It spoke to me."

_I hoped it would_. "Yeah, that's why I chose it…I mean because it does the same to me."

_**When I'm with you, are you somewhere else? Am I gettin' thru or do you please yourself?**_

Lunch with her is delicious. The food pales in comparison to her company. It is much more difficult to squelch my desire when she is like this; natural and relaxed. Her soft hair moves carelessly across her shoulders, and her easy charm seduces me, luring me in deeper. I'm full but hardly have my fill of her as we say our goodbyes.

The next two nights and days tick slowly as I await the mere presence of her again; the passing seconds a nuisance. Friday finally rolls around, and I busy myself inside the well. The music blaring and drinks sloshing, conversations and laughter all around; it is crowded this evening.

Her shift must be fast approaching because my focus is beginning to blur. That's when I notice _him _again. I wonder if _he_ gives her what I could. Placing his requisite drink on the bar in front of _him_, I simply nod. Now I know she must be close.

She is different tonight. However I can't place the anomaly. Her makeup and curls appear much the same; tastefully overdone, but essential for the environment. I prefer her natural naked lips and warm, bare, brown eyes. Her presence excites and haunts me all the same.

"Sexy," she greets me.

"Bella," I respond.

Our encounter mimics every Friday night, but I can't help but feel a shift in the energy that surrounds our exchange this evening. _He_ watches us.

"So how about, Deep Throat tonight then Sit On My Face with a Tight Snatch." She places her first order, fitting all the drinks into a run-on euphemism. I begin mixing the drinks as I counter, and we resume our roles.

"Tight Snatch, Sit On My Face." I place the drinks on her tray and turn.

"Did you forget the Deep Throat?" She winks.

"You wouldn't." I place the last shot on her tray and smirk back, adding my own wink tonight. I have no idea what comes over me this evening, but it causes _him _to choke on his gin, and me to grin.

Feeling ridiculously giddy with my empty, boy-like, sense of satisfaction, I busy myself with request at the other end of the bar as I sneak glances back towards the opposite end. _He's_ recovered, and upped his game. _His_ finesse and class is not lost on me; typically, it's the manner in which I behave. The light blue button down and pomade hair are a reach for me though. I favor my fitted cotton and low-rise, button-flys; my hair anything but contained or controlled.

_He _is tender with _his_ eyes and gentle with _his_ words. Throughout the night, _his _lips touch her cheek, and her face briefly nuzzles _his_ neck. Maybe this time I'm wrong, maybe she's happy. That's what I really care about—_her_. _Although I wish her happiness was entrusted with me._

Last call cycles, and the bar is quickly put to rest, leaving Bella and I to reside in the walk-in once again. We tote the boxes to the front, and I can't resist.

"What's going on with you and your shadow at the bar?" I inquire, as I light up in hopes of easing my twitch.

"What do you mean?" She reaches for a drag like always.

"Mr. Bombay Sapphire with a twist? What's his deal?" As I inhale again, I savor the hint of candy like sweetness she leaves on my cigarette.

"He's a nice guy." She takes another drag.

"Why don't you ever smoke your own? The packs right there." I watch as she exhales and returns the cigarette to my lips again.

"I'd rather share. What's with all the questions tonight, E?" She leans down and places another box on the bar then turns to face me. Her tiny frame encroaches on my space, and I am careful to not touch her. I move to the side and place my own box on the bar.

"Nothing, I've just noticed him in here a lot lately." I slip my hand under the edge of the cardboard, making quick work of unloading the beers and stocking the cooler.

"Awe, that's sweet you've noticed. Are you looking out for me?" She adds a wink, this one no less painful than the others she wields.

"Sure, I look after all my girls. You know that." Although it is the furthest emotion within my grasp at the moment, I go for casual. I want to grab her tiny waist and press her against the bar with my body, showing her exactly what I notice, but I can't.

"Yeah, I'm just another one of your _girls_ aren't I, Edward?" _Ugh!_ I have a love-hate relationship with her usage of my first name. I love the way it sounds leaving her lips, yet I hate the fact it isn't heartfelt. I want nothing more than for her to use it every day, in every way, every chance she can.

I question her with my expression but decide not to touch that last statement. "You know what I meant." This is how we are, this is what we do, and she knows that. Yet she doesn't know how much I truly wish it were different.

"Relax, Sexy. So E, anyone new and exciting in your love life these days?"

"Nope." I lie. "No one." _She_ _is interesting and exciting, but she is not in your life—Is she, Edward_? I chastise myself.

"E, you know every waitress and practically every female customer in this joint wants you to fuck 'em right here against this bar, right?" she questions. I chuckle uncomfortably. Christ, I would love nothing more than to take _her_, but not here—not like this.

_**I don't wanna touch you too much baby, 'Cos making love to you might drive me crazy.**_

I swallow and cringe inwardly. I know she's right. But it isn't what I want. I want only one…_one_ that can't give in return. She stills my hand from unloading the box and takes another step closer. I take a final hit and extinguish my cigarette. Her gentle touch makes me quiver and ache.

"Bella?" Her hand glides up my arm and grasps my bicep, allowing her little finger to slip under the black rim of my cotton t-shirt. "What are you doing?"

"E, don't you want to feel me, taste me? I know you couldn't take your eyes off me tonight."

My breaths become difficult to acquire as her hands become a little more familiar; one traces the outline of the contours on my chest and the other kneads my shoulder. I move the arm she is concentrating on to run my fingers through my hair as I tip my head back with a forced exhale.

"Damnit Bella, you can't do this."

"Why not, Edward?" My eyes cinch shut at the sound of my name spilling from her lips again.

"Because, I'm not _that _guy," I seethe.

"Maybe I'm _that _girl," she counters.

"I know. That's why I can't. I don't want to touch you, because making love to you…would drive me crazy."

"That doesn't even make any sense."

"Bella, you're…young and free, and I know you think love is the way you make it, but I can't be there when you decide to break it. I've been there and done that. And it doesn't solve anything, or make anyone's memory less prevalent. You can't replace or smother emotions with lust, and that's simply not enough for me."

Her other hand is still firmly set square in my chest, rising and falling with my breaths. "Please, just try. I need this tonight, E. Just tonight," she urges.

"I'm sorry. I can't; my terms…besides, I think you already have someone waiting on you."

"Fuck him. And fuck you, Edward! You can't stand here and pretend I don't exist; that you don't want to feel me. You can't continue to engage in innuendoes and romantic poetry readings and think I don't see it. Your fucking brain is as sexy as your rock hard body that I think about every fucking night." Watching the blood rise to her angered cheeks and her warm eyes narrow and heat causes me pause.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Our proximity to each other increases ever so slightly.

"You're a smart guy Edward, figure it out!" She's feisty as she flips her lip for emphasis over the word, _figure_.

"Why now, why tonight, after a year and a half of you working here, and hanging out, and messing around…why me? Why now?" My eyes harden, pleading for her honesty.

"Do you think I am any less affected by you than you are by me? Maybe I'm just tired of waiting around for you to finally make your move." Her small frame hovers centimeters from my own; large in contrast. I swallow, and she presses all the way into me. I groan at the contact.

"Bella…"

"Don't! See that moan right there? That's exactly what I'm talking about. Let go, Edward. Give in."

Her hands slide up the front of my chest and across the expanse of my torso settling firmly on my shoulders. My eyes linger on hers, and my head is spinning, swimming with doubt.

_**Love bites, love bleeds It's bringin' me to my knees… **_

I reach down and lift her chin with my finger, gliding up past her lips, cheek, and ear. I thread my fingers in her hair at the nape of her neck and tighten my hold. Gently swiping the pad of my thumb across her lower lip, I stare. The only sounds are the humming of the coolers and a single florescent light above the pool tables near the back.

_**Love lives, love dies It's no surprise… **_

"Kiss me, Edward," her beseeching breath breaking into a moan.

_**Love begs, love pleads It's what I need… **_

I drop my jaw and lower my eyes further as I grant her request, knowing it may end me. My mouth begins slowly, hesitant with intent. As our lips move together, I taste a hint of the familiar sweetness she always leaves behind on my cigarettes. Spurring me on, I nip her bottom lip between my teeth and release it leisurely as her murmurs drown out the white noise that surrounds us. With her parted mouth before me as an offering, I relent and enter her mouth with my tongue, coating it with the sacred sweetness I crave.

Our tongues roll and slide, melding our mouths together. The sensation of her exquisite lips and soft wet tongue are more than I could ever invoke. Suddenly, it isn't enough. Our mouths continue as I take quick steps and back her into the bar that rest behind her. As my body collides into hers, my hands desperately search for more. I run them down her arms, removing her hands from my shoulders and grasp her wrists. I pull one hand and then the other towards my mouth and bury my face in them momentarily, as I urge her back with a thrust of my hips.

She smells like sun dried linen and vanilla. I ghost my nose across the insides of her fingers, still holding her wrists in place as I inhale her. Her neck seems unable to support the weight of her head any longer as it lolls back, exposing her creamy neck. Moving slowly, I raise one arm and trace my nose from her elbow to her wrist where I settle, placing open mouthed kisses and allow my tongue to linger. Forcing her further back, guiding her arms, I lean in for her neck now. She is pliable. Willing. My teeth taunt the sensitive skin down the side of her neck as my tongue laps at the slight marks I've left behind.

Her hips are rolling and squirming beneath me, and it garners my attentions. I want to answer her silent supplication, but not yet. I need to take in every inch of her; with eyes, hands and mouth. My lips continue to trail her neck as her pitchy moans escape. I release her wrists and reach behind her neck, snatching her forward and bringing her mouth back to my own, this time with a fierce growing need to devour her entirely; tasting her again is addictive.

"Oh…God…Edward." Her words and the hum of her voice encourage me, yet force me from my stupor.

"Bella, I can't; not here. If you really want this, come home with me." I stand back, creating necessary distance between our bodies.

"Edward, just let go. Do this. You know I want you, and I know you want me."

"Not like this. I'm not _that_ guy, Bella." I shake my head gently.

She grabs her bag and keys from beneath the bar and rushes out the front of the bar. I follow her but do not speak, I only watch for her safety as she pulls away from the curb. Her tail lights flicker and fade into the darkness; the street is nearly black and silent once again. I light up and try to smother my thoughts with the nicotine rushing my brain. I finish up the remaining tasks, lock up and head home myself.

My bare feet graze the wood planks beneath me as I walk across my living room. I pour a glass of bourbon and relish the feel of the reclaimed barn underfoot, grounding me while I allow my mind to drift as I consume the strong drink. Thoughts of her hair, eyes and lips touching every part of me as I finish the last swallow contained in my glass; I decide another is necessary tonight. As I move to refill my glass, the chime at my door startles me. Glancing towards the clock, I throw back a large swallow of my refreshed libation; three forty-five a.m. I yank open the door, figuring it to be Jake. He always locks himself out of his apartment, and I keep a key on hand for him out of courtesy. Although it isn't Jake—it's _her_.

I stand with one arm outstretched on the door and the other holding my glass. Her eyes take me in from head to toe, and mine study her face; every miniscule expression. I realize I hadn't replaced my shirt as I stand before her in only my worn, button-fly jeans.

"Can…can I come in?" she whispers.

I push the door further with my arm but don't speak. This is the first time she has ever entered my apartment. I take a small sip from my glass and close the door before I turn to see her perched on my weathered leather couch. The leather almost the exact color of her hair. God, she is beautiful but broken; the sadness in her eyes evident. I only wish I knew what has made her this way and how I could repair all her pieces—one by one. I simply wish to make her whole again. She is too young for so much knowing sadness to reign in her eyes. Her feet are also bare, and the red on her toes catches my eye.

I move slowly towards her and take another tiny sip from my glass as I place it on the coffee table before taking a seat beside her. She reaches over and finishes off the liquid contained inside the glass. I watch as she swallows and the lines of her neck strain and release. Returning the glass to the table, she speaks, "So Edward, now that I'm here, what are you going to do with me?"

I don't speak. I can't. I move in closer as my fingers brush the hairs from her face; igniting from the contact. We continue where we left off at the bar. Her sweetness mixes with my smoke and rye flavoring. Our kiss deepens, and I know I am not going to gain what I truly desire from this. I know she isn't capable of truly giving…yet I partake selfishly, hoping to give her simply an offering, a part of me. She has no clue how much she already owns.

My hands travel the curvature of her body closely; down towards the plane of her hips, settling in then gripping tighter. I lift her up and place her back further into the supple worn leather. Her neck now leans back slightly to look at me as she drags her nails roughly through my hair, over my scalp and down the back of my bare neck. I open her legs as I move between them. My arms support most of my weight, and are now resting on either side of her face, skimming her sensitive skin. We kiss slow and thoroughly as I release some of my lower body weight onto her and sigh at the relief I feel, even if fleeting.

She is still wearing the short, tight skirt from earlier at the bar, only now it is riding up towards the tops of her upper thighs with all of the friction we both are eagerly seeking. My hands make their way down to skim her naked thighs. As my fingers dance across her creamy flesh, her hands begin exploring every inch of exposed flesh and sinew that my body offers. Her touch is something I've yearned for and dreamed of since we first met. Hearing her soft moans and feeling her light touch here…is perfect.

Her fingers delve lower between our bodies, seeking to free me from the denim barrier between us. I don't stop her anymore; I can't. I want this too much, and she is here. She came to me, on my terms. I can't deny that. Although I know in the back recesses of my mind this will most likely break me and shatter my soul, I continue.

She releases me with ease, and I quickly remove her barely-there scrap that passes for underwear. The lace gives way in my grasp. Her lips come up to meet mine again as she wraps her legs around my hips and forces her bare feet into my ass, guiding my entrance. I am so slow and relish every single inch of entry, forcing myself to keep my eyes from cinching shut. Instead, my eyes are locked on her face and every slight emotion that dances across it. Once all the way sheathed inside her alluring depths, I gain some control and momentum to spur our ride. Every movement in and out, breath and exhale, grasp and kiss is alive and heightened. Her moans mingle with my own, and we make love like this on the squeaking worn leather. Our connection is of touch, taste, sight and sound; all independent, but none greater than the whole.

We only drift off on the buttery leather for a few moments before I carry her to my bed. With all of our inhibitions and clothing finally stripped, we make love again in my bed. I watch as her breathing slows and begins to regulate on its own. I gently trace the beauty in her face with my fingers as she lies on me, fast asleep. I fight off sleep of my own for as long as I can, knowing tomorrow and the dawn will deliver the news I most dread. I inhale one last languorous breath of her and hold it close inside of me before falling asleep tangled in one another's bodies under the soft, gold-colored sheeting.

_**When you wake up, will you walk out? **_

I feel the warmth spilling through the windows before my mind can register anything else. Slowly my head begins to make the connections, and I already feel the pang in my gut. I know she has gone; before I have even opened my eyes. I ache like I knew I would. As I steady myself for the glaring morning light that is my enemy, I sit up and run my fingers thorough my hair and hold my face in my hands for a moment. When I finally muster the courage to really look around, I notice a note left on the golden pillow beside me.

The script is long and loopy, sensual; a perfect replica of her very essence.

E,

Please don't regret what we shared. I won't. I just have nothing else to offer you, nothing to give.

Always,

Bella

_**It can't be love if you throw it about.**_

She has never returned to my bar, neither has _he,_ and I haven't seen or heard from her since. Years have passed, but there isn't a day that goes by her memory doesn't invade my brain and fester in the recesses. Love bites, love bleeds, love lives, love…true love, _never _dies.

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